


Helium Rises one shots

by Alcor_the_Dreambender



Series: Helium Rises [6]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Abuse, F/M, Incest, M/M, Other, Slavery, Smut, Twincest, Yas, bdsm (occasionally), hella smutty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-03-03
Packaged: 2018-09-28 04:49:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10072607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alcor_the_Dreambender/pseuds/Alcor_the_Dreambender
Summary: Just some stuff I thought of after finishing the story





	1. Willford from chapter 11 of book 4

**Author's Note:**

> Smut   
> Hell yeah   
> No shame

Will knocked quietly on the door, and Stanford opened the door quickly, pulling them inside. 

"You know what happened, Will, right?" 

"Y-Yes sir."

"Don't call me that, please, the twins aren't here." 

"S-Stanford, then."

"Yes, I prefer that."

"Ok." Stanford took the demon's hand, sitting them down on the large bed and kneeling before him. 

"Now, tell me why you're trying to fix the world I made."

"I don't k-know what y-you're talking a-about." 

"Liar."

"T-Takes one t-to know one!" Will stuttered, crossing their arms and looking at the ceiling. 

"William--"

"Oh, stop it."

"I will not hesitate--"

"You won't hesitate to do what? Kill me? You did this for me, am I correct, Stanford?"

"I'll stop you!"

"Go ahead and try, Love." William frowned, pulling their eyepatch from their eye, and as the minute changed again, becoming 7:07, their form shifted many times, like one of those gambling games, landing on one with a burn mark covering their left eye with shades of purple, yellow, blue, and a few different reds. "I'm a big boy, aren't I? A scared, big boy that loves their master with the six fingered hands, huh? Is that what I am?"

"Will--"

Will stood, gripping Stanford's suit jacket, switching again to a feminine form with the same burn mark and a long yellow dress instead of the suit. 

"Or maybe you see me as a girl that's too broken to do anything against you. Is that it?"

"Don't make me--"

"Don't make you what?"

"Don't make me call them."

Yellow fire surrounded them, Will's uninjured eye glowing and flashing many colors. 

"Now they won't find you."

"William."

"Tell me how you see me." 

"I used to see you as a partner that would only keep me from my final destination. I also, once coming back, saw you as a wimp that was too far broken to do anything for themself." Stanford stood, brushing his thumb under the burn mark. "Now you are strong, strong and managing to stop my plans. Look at this! You're wonderful!"

"STOP IT!" 

"Stop what? Praising you?"

"Yes! I'm upset with you!"

"Why?"

The fire blew out, falling to nothing but black burns against the floor. "I don't know, I-I..." Will's eyes glance at Stanford's lips, pale and dehydrated even though he was surely drinking water and tea all the time, slightly chapped but when weren't they? He had never liked using chapslick or whatever it was called, never taking much care of his lips, or himself in general. Will had taken to making sure he was okay before the portal incident, even when the two were fighting, they wanted him to be okay, needed him to be. They look up again, frowning. 

"Then don't be." 

Their lips crash together, Stanford holding gently to Will's arms. Will could break away at any time. Instead of pushing away, however, Will only pulled Stanford closer, tilting their head to deepen the kiss and closing their eyes. Stanford moves his hands to hold tightly to Will's hips. 

Clothes were torn and ripped from each other's bodies, minds fuzzy and unthinking, teeth clacking together and hot breaths mixing; Will rushing to live this final time, Stanford finally claiming what he should have many years ago. Stanford's hands grip the nape Will's neck, bringing their head back to kiss and nip his way down to Will's collarbones. 

The bed creaks as the two push against it, lips reconnecting in a rush, barely able to take breaths between kisses. Not that they cared. Stanford takes Will's hands, pressing them into the bed and lacing their fingers together. 

Will looks away for an instant, eyes glowing turquoise, cheeks bright. 

"Do you want me to stop?" 

"No, no, I want more." Will pushes their lips against Stanford's, lips burning on impact with the other's, but that was ignored. Stanford smiles, teeth glinting, as he let's go of the demon's hands, brushing his hands down Will's sides, peppering kisses down their neck. 

"Mine," Stanford whispered repeatedly each time he nips and bites into their neck and shoulder, Will feeling each jolt of electricity and gasping as their sensitive skin is fussed with. This, these small jolts of him barely biting them with his teeth, was the kind of pain Will could have forever and still beg for more. 

"Yours," Will sighs, after each and every time Stanford growls that they is his, all his, only his. Will bucks their hips, biting their lip against the need to beg for more, because it was perfect, perfect and wonderful and never going to be topped by anything else. The words leave his lips before he can think. "More, more, I want more." Stanford's lips pushed against theirs again, barely touching them anywhere else, and enticing a growl from the demon. "I said more, not less." 

"Okay." Stanford grabs Will's hips, tugging them up to their knees and taking the demon's place, flipping them. "You take control, then."

Will pulls a bottle of lubricant (most likely from the Twins' room—they experiment) from thin air, popping open the cap and grabbing hold of Stanford's hand, kissing each finger before pouring some of the clear liquid onto the man's fingers. 

They pull Stanford to a sitting position, turning their back to him, before easing a finger inside his hole, slow and cautious. Stanford, as Will leans back against the man's chest, begins thrusting the finger, adding a second moments later, pushing in deeper, bringing the demon to arch their back and moan. A third is quickly added, thrusting steadily and moving much faster inside Will. The three fingers spread, Will crying out, instinctively wishing to move away from the jolt of pain, but staying still because Stanford shouldn't be meaning to, right? 

"Are you okay?" He stopped moving, worry falling over his face, eyebrows furrowed. Will turned their head to look at him, cheeks bright with a flush and body burning just from being with him. 

"Y-Yes, I'm alright." Their lips connected again, now slow and steady, Will's breath hitching as Stanford beings thrusting his fingers once more, moving slower in an attempt to never hear the fear of pain again. 

After a few moments, Will pushed their hips back, head hanging forwards, and entire body shaking. Each breath left their lips in a sigh, desperate for more and nearing the edge of their rope. 

Just one more time, one more thrust. 

"Not yet," Stanford whispers, pulling the three fingers from Will, bringing the demon to whine and grip Stanford's thighs. "Face me again, please." Will does so, locking eyes with Stanford, chest heaving yet nothing was wrong. They let Stanford guide them where he wanted, eyes widening as Stanford's length slowly makes it's way into them, Stanford moaning quietly at the tightness. 

Will gasps as Stanford thrusts once, Will rutting their hips against his automatically. Will rolls their hips this time, groaning at the new sensation, their entire body fuzzy but also insanely frustrated. It didn't feel right. 

Using Stanford's shoulders as leverage, hands carefully placed somewhere that it wouldn't hurt to put pressure on, Will lifted themself up, Stanford's shaft nearly leaving their hole, pushing themself back down much faster. The demon repeated the motion, bringing them both to moan louder. 

Stanford takes hold of Will's hips, bringing them up, then pushing them back down, bringing Will to call out, "Master," just as he had when they both had been working on the portal and something occurred that the demon was unsure of. 

Oh, did he like to call him that? 

Okay, then. 

"My Pet," Stanford had easily replied after only a moment of thought to understand. Will leans their forehead against Stanford's, blown pupils flashing between gold and black. Their entire torso moved with each and every breath, lips parted in a constant pucker, and their fingers tangled into Stanford's hair. 

"Master Stanford more –– hah, hah."

"Now, Pet, relax." 

Stanford began to grip the demon's hips harder, arms shaking as he grew close to orgasming. He ground his hips up as Will's own moved down, bringing Will to close their eyes and tug halfheartedly on Stanford's locks of slowly-greying brown. 

They spilled their orgasm across both of their chests, feeling their entire body hunch over as they does so, pressing their lips against Stanford's to muffle their cry of ecstasy. Stanford followed quickly after, pushed over by the clenching of Will around him, kissing back half assedly, tired from their activity, tired of being frustrated with the demon, tired from just fighting with him for the entire Weirdmaggedon. 

Will sighed, suddenly regretting this new activity, dropping their head and grumbling into Stanford's chest. "Why did I do this? I was mad at you! This is one of the stupidest things I've ever done!"

"Will, you know that's not true." 

"But it is! It was so stupid..." They trailed off, beginning to mumble into Stanford something along the lines of, 'I didn't even do this with you when I actually trusted you.' 

"I love you, Will."

"I woveoo too." 

"You're hard to understand when talking into my chest."

"Ssssshhhhh..." Stanford chuckled, sitting Will up, their healed eye half lidded, the other now covered by a blue square eyepatch. "Love you too, Stanford." The man brushed a hand over Will's hair, a yellowing blond, but still more humane than any other hair color he'd ever seen him with, after returning to this dimension. 

Will stirred after a moment, suddenly remembering something. They was to speak with the twins.


	2. If Dipper hadn't acted how he had at age 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW 
> 
> Dipper doesn't kiss Mabel when they are thirteen, keeping himself back and refusing to commit such an act, the results would be dangerous. 
> 
> Mostly Mabel getting frustrated with him and kissing him herself.

Age: 13 

He stops himself, licking his lips and turning back to the journal. "Sister," he sighs, looking up for a moment. "Come help, can't you?"

"Of course." 

He can't kiss her, he shouldn't do it. It's a sin, a huge one that cannot be forgiven, as their parents had said. 

Age: 14 

He gasped her name, it oh so easily falling from his chapped and bleeding lips. His mind fizzled out, blurred just from the imaginary taste of her skin, the false feeling of her on him, her hopefully warm breaths in his ear, begging him for more. His lotion-slickened hand moving faster as his hips shake with a nearing release. His free hand rushes to cover his mouth as he cries out his orgasm, blue streaking from his eyes to his ears, in burning lightening that singed his skin, bringing him to rush himself to leave the warmth of the comforter. 

His fingers, slowly and cautiously, ran along the bright blue lightening streaks. He winced as each bolt glowed with each ginger touch. 

 

Age: 15 

His fingers hold hers still, the nail polish shimmering in the sunlight. 

She looks heavenly. Kiss her now. 

No, no, he can't. He quickly looks away, biting his lips until he tastes blood. 

 

Age: 15 

He smashes his fist into the wall, not taking notice to the stinging of skin tearing and blood flowing out of the wounds. He doesn't take notice of anything but the burning in his brain, the fire in his stomach that can't be stopped, that's been there for two years, no matter what he does to himself, no matter how many of society's rules it breaks. Even touching himself won't put out the fire, only one thing that he refuses to ever do will stop the fire from consuming him. 

 

Age: 16

He throws everything in reach until nothing is breakable within the room. His breathing is harsh, entire body vibrating. He falls to his knees, biting down on his palms. 

"Stop, stop, please." 

 

Age: 17 

He can't even be in the same room with her. He's terrified. 

She enters a room, he leaves. 

It goes on for weeks, before Mabel grabs his amulet, pulling him into her room before he can leave the room again. 

She pushes him to sit, gripping his neck and tugging him to kiss her. The fire grows suddenly brighter, and he flips her under him, touching every single part of her he had ever imagined running his fingers across and kissing and biting and sucking on, doing as he wished and no longer caring if this qualified as rape or not, since she seemed to want this just as much as he did. 

He paused for an instant, panicking because this was wrong, it'll always be wrong, he shouldn't be kissing her soft lips or touching her perfect hips or wrapping her legs around his waist or gasping out quiet apologies as he presses against her, and she shouldn't be gripping his sides or letting him touch her how he wants to or moaning as he kisses her or bucking her hips against his hands or kissing back or pressing right back against him or saying that it's all okay in response to each and every near-silent, "I'm sorry". She should be hating him, refusing to talk to him, pulling away and hitting his hands off her, yelling at him to never speak to her again. 

She pulls him to kiss her, bucking her hips against his. She tugged her dress over her head, only breaking the kiss long enough to pull it off before moaning as warmth encircles one of her nipples, hips rutting against hers. She pulls the fly of his jeans open, unbuttoning it with a click of her nails hitting the false brass. 

His mind is muddled, fuzzy from the taste of her skin on his lips, the feeling of her on his skin, her hot breaths in his ear. He's no longer afraid as he tugs his jeans down only enough to bring himself free from the confines of underclothes, tugging her own panties to her knees, and lifting her legs over his shoulders. 

He wanted to do everything, touch everything that was wrong to, kiss and bite everywhere he wasn't supposed to. Tentatively, his lips touch the source of heat radiating against his face, moving away at the gasp from his twin. 

He pushes his tongue inside instantly afterwards, feeling her clench around him, her fingers gripping his thighs. He feels her beginning to pull away, and he automatically wonders if he had done something wrong. 

But suddenly she's pushing her heat on his, her hand guiding him inside her, and he moans, head back and lips parted because nothing he could ever had done by himself could bring him this type of pure joy, no matter how much he thought of her doing this, it would never come close to her actually touching him, kissing him back and making the most wrong of love with him. 

She is still for a single moment as she breathes against his neck, before she pushes her hips down roughly, and they both sigh. She does it again and again, pushing her hips down and moving him inside her. He grips her hips tightly, biting down on her shoulder to keep from begging for more, more, more please, as she holds onto his shoulders for an attempt at balance. 

She pulls him to kiss her, running her tongue along his lips and tasting the slickness on his lips and sucking on his tongue. Her hips roll down, entire body flush against his. His heart was wild, though beating in time with hers anyway. His lips moved to her neck, kissing and nipping her burning skin. His hips jolted, balls tightening in a sickeningly familiar way, the same way as when he touched himself. 

His logical side tells him to stop, to not cause more trouble than he and she already had. 

But Mabel whispers into his ear, "Don't stop." 

And so he doesn't pull away from her, just as he attempts to muffle his cry of pure pleasure, release crashing against him, his twin still rutting her hips against his as he shudders out his orgasm. Her shoulders shake, hips shaking and jolting. She slams her lips against his, moaning against him. She clenches around his member, becoming still after a few moments. 

This is extremely wrong, the most sinful thing they've ever done, but he can't find a single damn to give anymore.


End file.
